Page 27 of Bleeding for the Prince
He doubted it was that simple. Solivatus had sired plenty of more important people than him. “Right.”
They entered the Sir Culatory, a pub Gwil had been in a couple of times but he tended to avoid the place as he found his IQ dropped watching some of the clientele work their way through the menu.
“Grab a table,” Solivatus said. “I’ll get us a whisky, there’s no way I’m drinking even the normal blood in this place.”
He snagged a table in the corner. Three vampires opposite were in the middle of a drinking game with a carafe of blood that had a purple tinge to it. He didn’t want to know what shit they’d added because just watching them made him want to retract his fangs even further and maybe swear off blood for the rest of his death.
Gwil could understand that being a vampire came with certain expectations a large proportion of his kinfolk would never achieve. They were sold a dream of living forever and gaining wealth and riches beyond their imaginations. True, he’d never met a poor vampire, not in the same way there were poor humans, but when promised unimaginable riches, living a mediocre life sucked. He’d known only too well what that was like, and he’d worked hard to build his business, and now he had Hyax, he would never want for anything again—if he were to ask for it. Drinking exotic blood or a coke habit were ways of dealing with the disappointment, and thankfully, he’d not got the taste for weird shit and had left his drug habit in the past.
Solivatus set a double whisky in front of him. “I’d consider that more for antiseptic purposes than quality. I’ll owe you a proper drink another time. This place has gone downhill since the last time I was here.”
Gwil sniffed the glass. The blend wasn’t anything special, but at least he shouldn’t get a nasty infection from his drink. “What can I help you with?”
Solivatus chuckled. “You don’t believe I’m here to play nice?”
“Didn’t think playing nice was in your nature.” Solivatus was his sire; he had an ingrained deference for him, but he also knew that he had Solivatus’s respect and wasn’t a useless bloodsucker. Gwil had skills, and he knew how to use them and be useful.
“You do me a disservice; it’s not unknown for me to spend time with individuals who have shown potential.”
He wanted to bite back that for the last hundred and eighty years, he’d not exactly been beating his door down, but there was no point burning bridges. “I suppose I am a member of the Jyndarin Society now.”
“And well deserved. I also hear you’ll probably have yourself a shiny-winged husband soon too.”
He stared at Solivatus over the rim of his glass. “Why would you say that?”
“Put it this way, Gwil. Hyax’s mother isn’t the only one keeping an eye out for the mining activities of the Elementa tribe, and Oliver Hoffman might have more money than God, but he knows if he oversteps again, I’ll remove his head with a machete myself.”
“You’ve spoken to Oliver? On my behalf?”
Solivatus raised an eyebrow. “Fucker deserved it. Look, I know I push your pretty fairy’s buttons, and he’s a bit on the jealous side, but I do approve wholeheartedly of your entanglement. I’d go as far as to say, I would be happy to see you even more entwined.”
He didn’t want to get drawn into a conversation about Hyax and him getting divorced, as there was no use getting his hopes up. “I hope so too, for now, I’m still trying to come up with something special for him to wear like I have his collar.”
“Is that why you’ve been spending so much time at Dante’s? You’re shopping?”
“Have you been watching me?” Solivatus had sired a lot of vampires; somehow, he didn’t think he’d give this much of a fuck about him.
“Not you specifically, but I heard about an incident in the food hall. The description was your little sewer friend went swimming in pink pudding, so I put two and two together and wondered what case you’re working on.”
“I can’t tell you; client confidentiality is important. If it were to get out I couldn’t keep a secret my business would be deader than I am.”
“But it is based around Dante’s?”
“Maybe.”
Solivatus swirled his whisky. “Howard Squire is a weird fucker, you should be careful.”
“Most of my clients are weird; they wouldn’t need a detective if they were normal.”
“You do realise he’s a wyvern? Or at least part wyvern, I’m not sure if he’s a hundred percent.”
He’d not given Howard’s species much thought. His main consideration for agreeing to take on a client was that they could pay their bill. “No, and I don’t see why I would care if he was.”
“It’s more that he’s spent a lot of energy trying to avoid people thinking he is a wyvern, which is a bit odd. There’s no general mass dislike of wyverns, not like sirens, so why hide it?”
“It’s his business.” Besides, wyverns weren’t universally liked; the animosity between them and dragons had been around forever. “Maybe he wants to appeal to everyone. He’s hardly a household name.”
“I don’t know what it is you’re doing for him, but tread carefully. I don’t want to be picking bits of you out of his teeth.”
